Forbidden Fruit
by Dropkicking Bullet Shells
Summary: Rick was a happy man, an engaged man, about to marry the love of his life... until a bachelor party goes wrong and a joke goes too far. AU Rick/Daryl
1. Blame it on the Alcohol

**A/N-** _This was written for _**writerchick0214** _for a story swap! _  
No zombies, same characters! AU  
This is set before Rick and Lori are married.  
Rick, Shane and Lori are in their late twenties and Daryl is only 18 or 20

**Plot- **Rick was a happy man, an engaged man, about to marry the love of his life... Until a bachelor party goes wrong and a joke goes too far. AU Rick/Daryl

**Disclaimer-** I don't own Walking Dead, only the occasional OC that may or may not show up.

**Warning-** Male x Male, drinking, drugs, harsh language, violence, adultery (Not technically)

**Parings-** Rick/Daryl, mentions of Rick/Lori and Shane/Lori

**A/N-** Check out **writerchick0214**! She wrote me a kick ass Rick/Daryl fic called ** Hot for Teacher** for our story swap! Here's to you **writerchick0214**, I hope you like it!

XxxX

"Self-respect is nothing to hide behind. When you need it most it isn't there"  
_May Sarton_

XxxX

**Forbidden Fruit-**

Rick wasn't certain who's idea it was to head all the way over to Atlantic City for his bachelor party, but he's pretty sure it was Shane's. Shane was always the type to over do things, and Rick was pretty sure he labeled this as over doing it.

There were five of them piled into Shane's Jeep Liberty, it wasn't that bad of a fit, but the company was a bit tense and they had been on the road for quite some time.

Morgan was taking a nap in the back, his feet propped up on the tiny seat and his arm wrapped over to cushion his head. T-Dog thought it was hilarious. He kept reaching back to set things he had found scattered along the truck's floor on Morgan's chest and it was starting to pile up into a rather impressive mountain of garbage. Rick guessed the object of his little game was not to wake the snoozing man up.

Rick and Shane had called the front two seats. Shane had taken over driving so Rick could 'sit back and relax' on their road trip. He didn't mind, but now he had to concentrate on not falling asleep so he wouldn't fall victim to T-Dog's homemade Jenga game.

That was a serious threat that Rick was fretting over. T-Dog had a seat in the middle, he could reach up to him just as easily as he could reach back to Morgan and it wasn't as if anyone would stop him. The only person who would end the silly pursuit was snoring in the back. Shane would find it just as funny and Ed was just... Ed.

Ed wasn't taking part in Rick's little party because he wanted to be. Nobody wanted him there, but they didn't want him over at the girls' bachelorette party either and they all knew that's where he would have ended up. Rick and Shane had insisted he came because they were certain they wouldn't enjoy their weekend if they thought Ed was terrorizing the ladies back home. So, the big, beast of the man sat skulking in the middle seat beside T-Dog.

Rick wasn't sure what Shane was planning for their first night in the city, and truthfully, he was a bit frightened to find out. Shane had always had a intimidatingly creative mind when it came to celebrating and his best friend getting married was one of the biggest occasions out there so Shane was bound to bring out the big guns. Rick bet his money on it.

But, hey, he was getting married in a week. He was up for a crazy weekend.

They had just started passing signs for their exit and Shane had just started smiling that way he did when he had a plan. Shane's plans were never good news. They always involved something borderline illegal and if Rick didn't know his friend so well he would have thought he was corrupt through and through.

Shane had a plan and Rick had a gut feeling and both were screaming at him to run.

The parking lot to their hotel was large and crowded, but it was a nice place with a great reputation, so Rick didn't expect any different. The lights in the rooms above them glowed and beckoned and Rick wanted to head up and find out exactly how comfy their beds were.

Shane pulled into a spot and pulled his truck into park. The car jolted in place and Shane popped open his door, "Let's go!"

Morgan jumped awake at the sudden noise, sitting up, everything on his chest avalanching to the floor.

"Jenga." Rick smirked. T-Dog was the only one to laugh. Ed scoffed and Morgan just glanced between Rick and the garbage curiously.

XxxX

They all met up in Shane's hotel room, dropping off their things and passing out keys to each suite.

"I'm going to go drop my stuff off in my room, then I'm gonna bail. I hear there's a kick ass magic show going on tonight and I'll be pissed if I hafta miss that." T-Dog laughed, flipping the little key card around in his hands.

Shane nodded, "We're not actually doing all the celebrations until tomorrow night, anyway. It's already five so I say a nice dinner and some good, ol' fashion gambling will suit tonight just fine."

Ed just grunted, grabbing up his things and leaving to find his own room without a word. No one really cared to notice.

T-Dog ended up slipping out, too, within minutes and that left Shane and Rick and a sleepy Morgan. Shane wanted dinner and Rick was all for a nice steak, so the three left over men headed down stairs.

The resteraunt was nice, but the casino right outside was loud. Bad marketing on their part. Or maybe it was good because by the sounds of cheering and hooting going on, Rick figured that there was a lot of luck in the house. He was tempted to just skip dinner and head over and play a round or fifteen of blackjack, his growling stomach protested. They found a spot in the middle of the dinning room, sandwiched between crying infants and regular card shuffling con artists.

Shane is the only one of the three that doesn't seem to mind the noise. It was like he was on an adrenaline high with no intention of coming down. Another symptom invoking the thought that Shane was planning something awfully questionable.

Morgan had actually started to wake up, becoming more aware of his surroundings as time passed. Judging by the look on his face, he was not pleased. It's so obvious that the man would rather be at home snuggling with his wife and beautiful newborn son. Rick loved and respected the amount of family in the man.

Morgan was actually the reason Rick wanted a family so badly. He wanted the brightness and the happiness that flashed through the man's eyes every time he looked at his wife and son. He wanted the nostalgic, happy smile that flittered across his lips when he told a story about them. He wanted to feel as fulfilled, as accomplished, as complete as he knew Morgan felt everyday.

That's why he was marrying Lori. Rick truly felt like she was the one who was going to give him all of those feelings.

Lori was wonderful. Lori was beautiful. Lori was everything Rick was looking for in a woman and he couldn't have been happier. And she was pregnant. She was pregnant with his child.

Rick smiled to himself, lips kicking up in a grin he only wore on occasion.

Morgan smiled over at him, "You thinking about your bride?"

"Typical groom." Shane laughed, throwing his hand over Rick's shoulders and patting him on the back with a heavy hand.

"She's amazing you guys." Rick beamed, looking down to see his reflection in the table.

"Isn't this supposed to be the time in your relationship where you're over thinking and second guessing everything?" Shane rolled his eyes.

Rick just shrugged, "I guess I just know she's the one."

Morgan laughed, his voice hoarse and comfortable, "Every groom second guesses himself unless there is something fucked up in his head."

"You know what they say," Shane agreed, "If everything is perfect something's wrong."

Rick sighed, "Now who's over thinking things."

"Us." Shane laughed, signing for service.

A waiter walked up, smile bright and body language easy, "Hi, I'm Glenn, I will be your waiter for the evening. Can I start you guys with any drinks?"

"Get us a bottle of your oldest scotch and three glasses." Shane smiled.

"Ummm," Glenn laughed, "Sounds good!"

Shane stood up and straightened out his shirt, "I'll be right back." He said it with that smile. Damn that smile.

"Don't do anything you'll regret later." Morgan warned.

"And more importantly, don't do anything I will regret later." Rick added on.

Shane laughed smugly. Like he knew something they didn't, and walked off out of sight.

"We are doomed." Rick murmured.

"So doomed." Morgan sighed.

Shane returned after a few minutes and they sat around the table drinking and laughing and eating and telling stories for hours. Once the room started to spin, they moved their party into the casino to gamble their money away. Once the world started to shift at odd angles they wandered back upstairs to their rooms.

"That was great," Rick laughed, "I think I might of actually made a profit off that poker table!"

"Yeah?" Shane smirked, "How much?"

Rick dug the chips out of his pocket and counted them out, "Four dollars." Shane and even Morgan laughed long and hard at him. "Well how much did you guys make." Rick defended his measly earnings.

"Negative five hundred." Morgan grumbled.

"I lost four thousand." Shane winced.

It was Rick's turn to laugh and it made him feel a little better.

Shane stepped in front of his room's door before anyone could unlock it, "Alright, Rick. You ready to celebrate your marriage the old fashioned way.

No, he wasn't. Rick was tired and tipsy and thinking that maybe he was already getting a hangover. "I thought we were celebrating tomorrow."

Morgan groaned his agreement, rubbing the bridge of his nose to emphasis his exhaustion.

Shane ignored them and clicked open the door, "I give you" he grinned, "The attraction of Atlantic City!"

And Rick couldn't have been more taken aback if Shane had spat in his face because he -or rather Lori- had had one simple rule.

"I said no hookers!"

There were half a dozen young, petite woman in skimpy outfits scattered around the room and they didn't look like house keeping.

"These are not hookers," Shane walked in and wrapped an arm around one of the girls, pulling her close, "these are strippers. The best in the city."

"I'm going to bed." Morgan said dryly before grabbing up his belongings and heading towards his own room because he was tired and he was married and he had a family.

Rick watched Morgan go with a spark of jealousy, "What do you want me to do, Shane?" He knew that if he just left like Morgan had the privilege to do Shane would mope around all weekend.

"Ed and T-Dog are on their way up here right now." Shane informed him, "These lovely ladies are for us."

Rick narrowed his eyes, "So," he got a little hopeful, "I'm off the hook?"

"Absolutely not."

Of course.

"Your present is waiting upstairs in your suite." Shane smiled that smile again and Rick felt a little nervous.

"What kind of present?"

"Why don't you head upstairs and find out," was his sly response.

Rick, albiet a little reluctantly, made his way up to his room. He really hoped the present was something he could leave lying on the little desks they always had in hotel rooms. Maybe, if he was lucky, there wouldn't be anything there at all and Rick could just go to sleep.

When he opened the door, he did it timidly, listening to its rich creek. It built up suspense in that funny way only cheesy horror movies could.

All of the lights in the room were out. That was a good sign. Unless of course, he really was about to step into a slasher movie. He tip toed in, peeking around the corner. He sighed in relief when he didn't see anybody.

He stepped in all the way, sliding the door shut behind himself quietly. Rick liked the sound of the silence in the room. He took it in, sighing and smiling.

"Safe!" He cheered quietly, posing like an empire at a baseball game. Life couldn't be better.

"Safe from what?"

And Rick screamed. It was more like a yelp, but it was high pitched enough that he considered it a scream and nearly die from embarrassment. He wished the ground would just swallow him whole right there.

"Sorry, I must be in the wrong room." he nearly whispered, whirling away from the source of the voice so he could hide his shamed blush.

"You Rick?" the voice was rough and tough like one of those old time western cowboys, but it was coated with a sweet southern drawl that sent tingles up Rick's spine. It was strangely soft, though, too. Kinda like the last few seconds of a rollercoaster, or the tail end of a river of rapids.

"Yeah," Rick answered uncertainly, refusing to turn around until his red cheeks simmered down to a manageable level, "Who are you?"

Rick jumped a bit when he felt calloused fingers wrap softly around his wrist, pulling him deeper into the badly lit room. The stranger sat him down on a chair in the middle of the room.

"What are you doing here?" Rick asked again, finally looking up to see the silhouette of a well built man.

"Yer friend said somethin' 'bout a groom." the man said, "He paid me to help ya celebrate."

"C-celebrate?" Rick hated that his voice wavered.

The man left his side, wondering over to the door again.

It finally clicked in Rick's head. It was like one of those jokes you didn't laugh at until it was over and your ego had time to heal.

Shane had got him a male stripper. Male. As in not a girl. Not female.

"Listen, uh..." Rick hesitated a bit and hoped some of the many blanks in his head would be filled.

"My stage name is Dixy."

"Listen Dixy," Rick said, "my friend set this up as a gag gift because I'm getting married next Friday. You don't actually have to do... whatever it is you do." Rick jumped to his feet and stepped over to Dixy's side twisting his hand in the handle of the door, "Feel free to keep the money he's paid you."

This close, Rick could smell the man. It actually surprised him that Dixy didn't smell like sex and booze and back street ally ways. He smelled like the forest after it rained. He smelled like a fresh pot of coffee. He smelled like the night air and the wind and newly mowed grass.

Dixy didn't leave. He snorted and growled like Rick had just kicked his puppy, "I've been paid ta do a job and I'll be damned if I walk out a here without earnin' ma keep."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend you,"

"Then shut up an' take a seat." Dixy barked and Rick listened. He didn't want to piss off the hard working, if not completely unstable, dancer.

Dixy flipped on the lights and Rick was finally able to get a good look at the man.

God, he was perfect.

His eyes, cold and blue and curious. His jaw line, smooth and fine. His hair tussled in a manner that called out to Rick. It told him to reach out. His hands were rough and small, his nose was curved and cute and then his lips. God, his lips. Soft and pink and pulled tight.

This man had to be an angel. This man had to be a hallucination because people weren't made like that. People weren't made to look so taut and fine and perfect.

God, he was perfect.

Rick sat back in his chair, too worried that if he got too close he would accidently brush up against the man. And he didn't want that.

Dixy didn't seem to notice. He brushed his hand across Rick's shoulders and swayed against the back of his seat. He did it without a word of warning to Rick, like he had just expected Rick to be ready, like he was used to his customers being ready.

But, Rick wasn't ready. he wasn't prepared for the oddly erotic sensation and he wasn't ready to find himself subconsciously rocking into the hint of heat he swore he could feel.

Dixy moved from behind him to his front, dipping down a bit over Rick's lap, just enough and winding a hand over his own body, over the crisp white buttons on his shirt, over his loose, unprofessional tie and up to his head to curl into his silky brown locks.

His hand ran down again, back to his hips that still rocked side to side. His hips were mesmerizing, the way they quivered and Rick wanted so badly to put his hands on them and feel them roll.

The thought kind of scared him. He told himself it was the alcohol. The alcohol was making his hands twitch needily. It was the booze making his stomach flip flop awkwardly. It was the liquor that made him think that the sight before him alone was better than sex with Lori.

If he ever told Lori he thought something like that he would be in some serious trouble, even though he hadn't done anything. He hadn't even thought anything. It was the alcohol that was thinking it.

Dixy was playing with the tie he was wearing, running his fingers over it suggestively. It was tied correctly, but pulled just so, so the knot hung loosely and gave him a casual, sloppy air. The sleeves to his dress shirt were long, but cuffed, just above the elbow, flaunting strong arms.

He wore a black silk vest that teased. It was open, tossing this way and that with Dixy's movements. The pants though, the pants were something else. They were the kind Rick would wear to a very nice resteraunt, or to a black tie affair, but they were tight on Dixy, showing off the muscle of his defined legs and giving him just enough maneuverable to make them sexy and convenient.

Sexy wasn't his word. That was the alcohol again.

And then, Dixy was touching him again. Brushing his hands up and down Rick's chest and he felt electricity on his finger tips, and not the kind you get when you rub your bare feet on the carpet and chase your friends around with, but dirty, addictive electricity that ran through him from head to toe.

Dixy moved slowly over to stand behind Rick. He leaned down, rubbing his shoulders and letting his arms drape over his chest. One of his hands trailed up again, fingers ghosting over his shirt in such a sensual way that Rick's breath caught in his throat. He could feel Dixy's warm, intoxicating breath on his ear and the hairs on the back of his neck stick up.

"Stop, stop, stop, stop, stop!" Rick jumped out of his seat a little to quickly. He was sure he saw Dixy flinch, but he didn't think much of it, "Why don't we sit down and just talk. For a bit." Dixy shot him a sour glare. "Please." Rick almost begged.

Dixy seemed to accept, because he rolled his eyes and propped himself on the little desk the chair belonged to.

Rick fetched the bottle of whiskey he had hidden in his bag and popped the lid open, "I always keep a bottle of liquor on my person when I have to spend the weekend with Shane."

Dixy didn't seem interested in Rick's explanation. He reached out for the bottle.

Rick handed it over and sat back down in his chair and looked up to watch Dixy gulp down an impressive amount before handing the bottle back.

"Why do you do what you do?" Rick asked without thinking. He tried to hide his awkwardness behind the whiskey as he took a deep sip of his own.

"Why do ya do wha' ya do?" Dixy snipped, grabbing the liquor back and throwing his head back with it.

Rick shrugged, "I work to get money to support the family I'm working on."

"There ya go."

Rick held out his hand for the bottle, "Your working on a family? Do you have a wife?" Dixy shot him a dirty look, "A husband?"

"I have a brotha I have ta look after."

"A little brother?"

Dixy snorted, "Yeah, right. He's older."

"Then what are you doing taken care of him?" Rick asked after a sip of booze.

Dixy eyed him but didn't seem willing to answer. They sat there in silence, passing the bottle back and forth like a joint.

"Let's get this over with." Daryl jumped off the desk after a while. The bottle of whiskey was wrapped around his fingers and he didn't seem to have any intention of letting it go. Rick didn't want any more anyway. He was already way too drunk for this already.

Dixy was moving again, swinging his hips sinfully.

He leaned in and brushed up against him, pulling Rick's hands away from him as he moved. Dixy made sure Rick never actually laid his hands on him in any way without his control. Occasionally he would cup Rick's wrist and let him caress his thighs and legs and even sometimes his hips, but other then that the dancer seemed to be off limits.

A humorous thought passed through Rick's head, the idea of finding a 'Do not feed the birds' sign and turning it into a necklace that instead said, 'Do not stroke the stripper'.

It's not like Rick wanted to touch Dixy, anyway. The alcohol in his system certainly did, but that had nothing to do with him. Obviously.

It wasn't long before the alcohol was tempting him with images of Dixy scissor shaped across his bed and Dixy's gorgeous blue eyes looking at him lustfully, though. His body sort of moved on it's own, or maybe it was the alcohol again, but his hands kept reaching out to feel the dancer. His hands kept being slapped away, but each time Dixy took another gulp of whiskey, he got a little bit closer.

Half of a bottle of booze later, Rick was able to graze his fingers against the waistband of Dixy's pants and palm his naval without any protest. The skin under the dancer's shirt was so unexpectedly soft. It felt like silk. He wanted to see if tasted just as good as it felt.

Rick heard Dixy grunt in approval as Rick bent forward. Every few inches he moved he glanced up to confirm Dixy was still comfortable but the dancer was focused on the whiskey.

He brushed Dixy's shirt away, up to his belly button and breathed onto the sensitive skin. He watched the dancer's muscles ripple at the sensation. He glanced up one more time for good measure before kissing the exposed skin tentatively.

It tasted delicious. It tasted unique and indescribable and Rick could feel himself craving for more, more, more already. He licked and nipped, listening to Dixy groan soundlessly.

Rick traced his tongue around Dixy's naval, lapping up the enslaving taste.

Dixy drifted into it, taking a few light steps closer and Rick took the opportunity to guide him into his lap. The dancer straddled his legs, grinding into him on impact.

Dixy's mouth was warm, Rick found that out when he felt teeth nibbling on his ear and a tongue dashing in and out around those lips. Rick reacted instantly, reaching out to pull Dixy onto him again and-

And that's when the worst of the alcohol must have taken affect, because Rick couldn't remember a thing after that.

XxxX

**A/N-** This may be a one-shot, but depending on how many people want me to continue, I might make this a multi-chapter. (The 'Friendship' genre will change if this ends up being a multi-chapter, BTW)  
All I know is that I have to write a few more chapters of my other Rick/Daryl fic, Dollface, before I start or continue anything else.

I hope you enjoyed, please review if you can spare the time! Thanks for reading.~


	2. Feeling Rather Bitter

**A/N-** This is a two-shot, so it ends here, you guys!

**LisaBoston**, **BeachBunnyLuvsU**, **HazelAndNut**, **DarkMistiqe**, **Not-So-Wicked Witch**, **RejectedShyRebel18**, **velvetemr73**, **deelove1**, and **writerchick0214**, thank you so much for your reviews! I hope the second and final chapter was worth the wait and you enjoyed the story as much as I loved writing it!

**writerchick0214**, I wrote this for our story swap and I'm sort of sorry I couldn't write something for you that was as long and as amazing as **Hot for Teacher **is, but I hope you like my story all the same!

XxxX

"Only those in comfortable circumstances think love is the most important thing."  
_Mason Cooley_

XxxX

**Forbidden Fruit-**

The restaurant at the hotel offered free breakfast, but Rick wasn't hungry. When Glenn had come around and told him all of the house specialties, Rick had hushed him up and told him a coffee was fine. The kid had shot him a worried look but scrambled off all the same.

Rick sat silently until his drink arrived and even after that had nothing to say.

He drowned his shame in anger in the searing hot drink.

Dixy had been gone when he had woken up. That hadn't surprised him, but what did was the wad of money on his night stand and a note that simply read 'I'm a stripper, not a prostitute' in chicken scratch.

All that had done was confirm his worst fears.

Worst of all, though, he wasn't ashamed that he had betrayed his wife, or afraid that his marriage could be either be built on lies or crumble all together. He wasn't feeling anything but numbness on that topic and he took that as shock. This was all alcohol's fault and he promised himself at that moment that he would never drink again.

The shame burning deep in his belly had nothing to due with Lori, or his child or visions of his family in the future, but Dixy. Dixy was another matter all together.

He really just used the man and tossed him away. It was disgusting. How was Rick supposed to look in the mirror after all of this.

He tried to push the thoughts away but they kept coming back.

What if Dixy felt the same disgust towards himself? What if Rick had caused it.

His head was pounding and his hangover made his whole body throb. He sipped on his coffee and pretended it was Asprin or Advil or just something that would help.

Rick wondered where Dixy worked. He wasn't all too familiar with the strip clubs in this state, but he figured if he had enough of a reputation he wouldn't be too hard to find.

He didn't know what would happen if he did find Dixy, or what he would do or say or think, but he figured just leaving everything the way it was would be a bad idea. It was best to tie up all of his loose ends.

He couldn't tell Shane or anyone for that matter. He would never live it down. Shane would tease him about it forever and he didn't trust his best friend not to accidentally slip the news to Lori.

Lori.

The numbness seemed to have evaporated because at the thought of Lori his breath hitched and his throat tightened and he felt like he was suffocating.

"You look like you're having a panic attack." Morgan smiled as he took a seat in front of him. When Rick's only response was wide, terrified eyes, the grin died down and the man's cheerful eyes filled with concern.

Rick only shook his head and buried his head in his hands and Morgan took the meaning and kept quiet.

Morgan was in much better shape than Rick. He hadn't had nearly as much to drink as the others and he had gone to sleep at an almost reasonable hour. He was also extremely good at holding his alcohol and holding himself gracefully under any circumstances. Rick was bitterly jealous.

And in Shane came, cocky and coy and absolutely oblivious. He held himself with pride and at that moment, Rick would have done anything to chuck a brick at that stupid plotting sneer.

"How was your little present last night?" His best friend laughed, pulling out a chair and plopping himself down with all of the ease of a carefree man.

Rick slid his head up enough to shoot a sour glare at Shane and Shane only giggled.

"I don't think he's in the mood to-" Morgan tried to stand up for Rick and get the tense air to simmer down, but Shane brushed him off.

"Don't be preposterous." Shane smirked, "I bet you have an interesting story!"

Rick rubbed over his face and narrowed his eyes. He looked down at the floor and studied it awkwardly.

"Spit it out, man!" Shane jousted, poking out at Rick's arm and eating up the anxiety anxiously.

Rick really didn't want to admit to anything, but his nerves were wearing down and he couldn't help but think of just throwing his inner conflict out there just to spite him. Morgan was easier to be with. He took in the air and saw something was weighing heavily on his mind and let him wallow until he was ready to open up, but Shane did the opposite. If something was on his mind it just meant a good story.

Shane was a good friend though. He would stick by his side and support him no matter what. He didn't expect any different from Morgan, though.

"I got him a male stripper." Shane giggled like a child, "I bet he grinded you all night!"

Rick opened his mouth to speak, but his mouth went dry. He closed it again.

"I bet you tried to kick him out and he wouldn't go! That's just your luck!"

Morgan eyed Rick precariously and it clicked for him. He was too smart a man for his own good.

"Did it turn you on?" Shane joked, "You always seemed the type!"

Rick hunched over again and covered his forehead with the hand propped up on the table. He tried not to think, or talk, or ruin his own life.

"Ya know, if you want me to hire him again tonight I can!" Shane cackled. The other people at nearby tables were looking at him like they wanted to set him on fire. They probably all had hangovers, too.

"Shane." Morgan warned. Maybe he was telling him to keep his voice down or to shut up all together, but Shane did neither.

"Do you feel all dirty since a man looked at you all funny?" Shane chortled, "Do you-"

"I slept with him."

There was this awkward little moment of silence and then Shane laughed this awkward little laugh like he was expecting Ashton Kutcher to jump out from under the table with a camera. But that didn't happen.

"What are you talking about?" Shane asked, but he didn't really want to know the answer. He immediately knew his friend was serious, but refused to admit it. "That's really funny."

"I'm not joking." Rick hissed. "Do you really think I would joke about something like that?"

"Well... I... wait." Shane shook his head slowly, "What?"

"I slept with Dixy." Rick repeated. "I slept with him and I..." his voice broke a little, in panic, but he cleared his throat and straightened himself out. "I don't know... I just don't know."

Shane gaped.

"What are you going to do?" Morgan asked calmly. "You were pretty drunk last night, if you explained everything, I'm sure Lori will understand. The marriage may be post postponed, but I doubt she will leave you all together." He didn't sound too sure of himself, but Rick gave him props for trying.

"She wont." Rick sighed. "She'll leave me for sure."

"You can't say that for-"

"I just..." Rick took a deep breath, "don't want to loose her."

"Then what are you going to do?"

"She'll never have to know." Rick told them desperately, "We can keep it a secret between us three, can't we?"

"We might not have a choice, but listen to me now, Rick." Morgan leaned in and looked him directly in the eyes, "Do not start a marriage of lies."

"Lori is pregnant!" Rick croaked, "I can't dump something like this on her!"

"You don't have much of a choice. Do you really think lying is the best course of action?"

Rick absentmindedly picked at a couple of stains on their table and moved to swirl what was left of his coffee around in his mug. He didn't have an answer, so he didn't offer one.

"You're joking with me, right?" Shane choked out, all of his playful attitude gone.

"I'm not joking."

"You've got to be shitting me!" Shane swore, reaching out and clasping his hand on Rick's shoulder. "Please tell me you're joking."

"Shane." Rick pressed back, "I wouldn't joke about something like this."

Shane fell back in his chair and let his jaw drop and his eyes widen. "I ruined my best friend's wedding. I ruined your relationship. I ruined everything." Shane's big, round orbs lifted to look at him apologetically, "I am so sorry."

Rick felt the sudden need to comfort his best friend, so he did. He smiled as best as he could under the circumstances, "It's going to be fine, Shane. Don't worry about it, it's not your fault. It's mine and mine alone."

There was another little pause of silence before Shane spoke again, "Was it at least good?"

"What?"

"Well, he's one of the best strippers in Atlantic City, I'm sure his skills would gravitate all the way to the bed room."

Morgan looked like he was torn between face palming and reaching over and strangling Shane.

"I don't remember much." Rick admitted and shook his head.

"From what you could remember, then." Shane asked, "Was it good?"

Rick sighed and tried to find a real reason to answer but he couldn't find one. "Yes, Shane." he said anyway, "It was good."

Morgan's eyes widened and Shane clearly couldn't decide between cheering or dying.

"Was he better than Lori?" He asked. Apparently he had decided to be an idiot instead.

"Shane." Morgan warned again.

"I don't want to talk about it anymore, Shane." Rick sighed.

"I just want to know!" Shane shrugged defensively.

"It's not very appropriate." Morgan informed him.

"You guys do realize we have to go see this guy again, right?" Shane told them matter-of-factly.

"Why would he do something like that?" Morgan rolled his eyes.

"I agree, that doesn't sound like a very good idea." Rick eyes Shane curiously.

"I know you, Rick." Shane smiled, "If you don't get closure on what happened last night you will always regret it. You need to see him one more time."

Rick looked down at his lap. He tried to ignore the fact that his best friend was right.

"We'll leave at five, so be ready." Shane laughed. He knew he had won. The bastard.

They waited around in Rick's hotel room for the time to pass. Shane dug deep into his friend for details on the night before and wouldn't stop pestering him until he gave up everything. He told Shane and Morgan every detail and they just listened and nodded. Shane told him he had scored lucky. Rick didn't really understand, but he got the gist and tried to drop the subject.

He felt guilty for not wanting to take advantage of the amazing trip, hotel and city he was in, but he really wasn't in the mood. He wanted to see Dixy as soon as possible and the nagging feeling, like he had lost something, kept grating on his mind and he didn't feel up for anything other than thinking about what he would say to Dixy and moping.

Five o'clock came too soon and not soon enough.

The strip club was busy when they got there and Shane told him that wasn't a shocker. This place had everything and everyone. Anyone's taste could be met.

It was the dirtiest and cleanest place in all of Atlantic City and Rick didn't really want to touch anything.

There were both woman and men dancing on the stage. None of them were Dixy.

Figuring that out brought a gasp of relief from Rick. He wasn't sure why, but the thought of anyone touching the dancer like he had the night before rubbed him the wrong way. The thought made him want to kill.

That was probably unhealthy but he didn't give it much thought.

Shane told him that this place worked the same as any strip club back near their high school, it was only bigger and excepted everyone.

The music was too loud to hear most of what Shane kept calling over his shoulder and the strobe lights occasionally blocked some of the smirks he shot over, as well. He almost lost his friends in the erratic crowd. They made it over to the bar, eventually.

The bartender looked like a cruel man. His eyes were cold and malicious, but laugh lines were carved into his face. The clashing emotions made him seem childishly crude or even mischievous. It was odd.

The burly man looked up at them as they approached and his eyes lingered on them each individually. He flashed them a toothy smile, "How may A' help ya?" He had a foreign southern accent, and Rick was reminded instantly of Dixy.

"We're looking for a male stripper named Dixy." Shane spoke for all of them, "Do you know where he's at?"

"What do all ya'll need with lil' Dixy?" the bartender snorted playfully, "Does he owe ya money?"

"No, we just need to talk to him." Shane bellowed over the music and its steady rhythm.

"That's what they all say." the man smirked and pointed over to the other side of the room anyway. "He's dancing. Over in tha corner. Make it short."

Shane nodded and motioned for Rick and Morgan to follow him.

Rick and the others pushed back sweaty, erotic bodies and made their way slowly over to their desired destination.

When they got there, Rick went rigid because there was Dixy, but he wasn't doing something innocent like Rick was greatly hoping for. He was grinding up against an older gentleman who kept slipping ten dollar bills in the waist of his low hanging pants. And, he didn't look like he going to run out of money anytime soon.

Rick reacted instinctual. He rushed forward and reached out and grabbed at Dixy's arm. He ranked the younger man away from his customer roughly and span him around until they were face to face. The shocked look on the dancer's face would have been priceless in any other situation.

Dixy looked a little dazed, but mostly confused. His mouth hung open a little bit and a few of the loose bills tucked into his clothes dropped off and feathered to the ground. Dixy didn't seem to notice.

"Dixy." Rick murmured. His tone was brimming with emotions he couldn't name if his life depended on it. Before he could say anything else, though, two large, heavy hands clamped onto his shoulder and squeezed hard until he let go of Dixy. The dancer stepped to the side gracefully.

Rick heard Shane swear behind him.

Security consisted of these two men. They were large and borish and wore matching suits that made them look extraordinarily threatening. Like a couple of mafia goons that knew how to make a body disappear.

"What tha hell are ya doin' here, Rick." Dixy hissed, "And it better be a better excuse than 'I had ta see ya again'."

"You forgot your money." Rick made up on the spot. He couldn't exactly say 'I just had to see you again' like all of those romantic movies now.

Dixy rolled his eyes and scrutinized Rick like he was dealing with a monkey, "Didn't you get ma note?"

"I did," Rick admitted, "but it didn't make sense."

"How could that not make sense." Dixy snorted in disbelief. "Are ya really tha' simple?"

"You earned that money." Rick improvised.

Dixy didn't seem pleased by that. He snarled and made some motion to the security guards and one of the big man threw him about and then tossed him over his shoulder in a fireman's carry.

"Get tha fuck out'a here." Dixy growled.

Shane shot Rick a look of mixed amusement and shock and then he turned to Dixy, "Wait! Just let my friend talk to you!"

Dixy glared daggers at him, "I'm busy. I'm at work. Get tha fuck out'a here before ya get me fired." He demanded all at once.

"We'll pay for a private room!" Shane nearly pleaded and Dixy's interest peaked up, "Cash!" Shane ripped and handful of bills out of his wallet and dispensed them in Dixy's cupped hands.

"I only want to talk." Rick told him quietly. "And I just want you to listen."

Dixy fanned out the stack of cash silently and counted it out in his head. He looked up after a second and let his eyes roam over Rick's face as if looking for something to trust. Maybe he found it, because right after that he made another signal towards the big guards and the oafs dropped him to the floor.

Dixy pocketed the money and motioned for Rick and his boys to follow. The crowds seemed to part for Dixy, and in turn, Rick, Shane and Morgan. They were at the back rooms in no time.

They were let in by a slimy looking man, with gelled back hair and a sleazy, money hungry smile. His eyes lingered on Dixy too long and Rick contemplated breaking his nose.

The room was empty save for a large, 'L' shaped couch and a few little coffee tables that sat up against the walls. Morgan moved to sit out of the way, heading over to one of the tables and making himself comfortable in the corner.

Rick and Shane headed to the couch and sat down, looking up at the neon colored walls. They tried not to look at all of the odd decorations or the rugged, stained carpet or anything else that looked awfully dirty.

Dixy walked up to Rick and rocked his hips and Rick nearly lost it, "No!" He barked, "Um, please don't." If Dixy started moving like that again Rick wasn't sure he could keep his hands to himself. The last thing he wanted was to cause the dancer discomfort, or worse, have sex with him in front of his friends.

Dixy didn't seem offended, but he did wrinkle his nose a bit in distaste. "Well, I'm not gonna take yer money without earning it, and if I'm not makin' money, then I don't know what tha fuck I'm doin' here."

The math was simple, but Rick tried again, "Couldn't you just sit down and... talk to me for a bit? It'll only be two or three minutes-"

"No."

"I'll take the dance." Shane smiled cockily, "I'm totally up for taking one for the team and I'm rather curious to find out what all of the fuss is about."

Dixy didn't need to be told twice. He brushed over to Shane's side.

Rick felt a warm rage build up inside him immediately, but he swallowed it. It was completely uncalled for and unnecessary.

Dixy swayed his hips like he did for Rick and ran his thin, calloused fingers over Shane's shoulders and shirt like he was dusting out wrinkles. Shane relaxed into the touch immediately and Rick tensed.

"So, what did you want to talk to me about?" Dixy asked as he let the tips of his fingers sweep up Shane's neck. He stroked down again and let his hips tremble seductively. "What was so important?"

Rick was too busy staring at Dixy's swift, graceful movements and apparently, so was Shane. Morgan was off trying not to pay attention to anything. So, they all looked like dumbfounded assholes, mouths hanging open and words caught in their throats.

Dixy sighed and rolled his eyes. Part of him wanted to torture the men a little more with his movements, and seeing Rick and his friend strain themselves to not touch him made him feel impish and a little sexy.

"Does anyone have any answers for me?" Dixy asked as he pulled himself into Shane's lap. He didn't often take dares like this with new customers, or any customers, but the way Rick was looking at him made him want to rile the man up. Straddling his best friend seemed like the best way.

Shane reached out when Dixy wasn't looking and stroked playfully at his hips, before Dixy could move to slap him off, Rick was already at it, with a vicious glare and a warning on the tip of his tongue. He didn't feel the need to speak it, but the threat behind it was evident.

"Sorry." Shane murmured as he pulled his hands back and let them drop to his side. "Just... wasn't expecting to be so tempted." The dancer swayed into him and the big, cocky figure that was once Shane molded to him in submission.

Dixy could have sworn he heard Rick hiss.

While Shane was swooning, Dixy moved to grind against him again. This time he was softer, and merely just ghosted his hips against Shane's to create undeniably delicious friction.

Shane moaned.

Rick jumped to a juxtaposition and grabbed out for Shane's arm, holding it tight and glaring at him hard. Shane cocked his head over to look at his best friend and tried to smile at him apologetically, but his eyes rolled back a bit when Dixy's mood churned a bit more frisky.

"Oh... ah. Hm..." Shane murmured, "Do that again?"

Dixy careened his weight to push up against Shane and the man nearly crumbled, a shiver and a needy groan wracked up the bigger man's body. Dixy felt a little proud of himself and barely hid a smirk.

Rick hummed under his breath uncomfortably. It came off as more of a whimper. "Can we talk? Please?"

"We are talking." Dixy answered.

"Can we talk while you're not dry humping my best friend?"

Shane gave a lusty growl, his eyes snapping open to a half lidded post and his irises flickered between the dancer and his friend desperately.

"No." Dixy told him. He had said it mostly because his pride wouldn't allow him to take the money that he so badly needed without earning it, but another side of him was glad that Rick looked like he was suffering.

Rick nodded and excepted Dixy's answer resentfully, he took a moment and then opened his mouth to confess everything. "I'm sorry that I took advantage of you. I shouldn't have."

Dixy eyed Rick from the corner of his eye, but continued his job, feeling Shane's muscles ripple against his as he moved.

"I'm getting married next week." Rick admitted. "And my fiance is pregnant with my son. It's our first. We're thinking about names right now." The thought was fond and he couldn't help portraying that in his voice. "She likes Damian, but I like Carl. After my father."

Dixy slowed his motions to listen to Rick and Shane groaned in protest as the friction grew stronger.

"She's four months along and," Rick laughed a bit, "she thinks she's ugly because she can't fit in her wedding dress anymore. It's ridiculous. I think she looks even more beautiful."

"Why are you tellin' me all of this?" Dixy asked. He placed a hand on the back of the couch to Shane's right to support his weight while he continued to dance painfully slow.

"I made a mistake sleeping with you last night." Rick told him sadly as he readjusted himself to face Dixy a little better. "But I don't regret it."

The dancer stopped all together and Shane cooed a small, desperate whimper. Dixy looked over at Rick as if studying and he considered him for a moment. He didn't say anything.

"I love Lori from the bottom of my heart and I want nothing more than to make her happy, but," And here was where the 'but' came in. Here was were Rick admitted everything. "I felt something when I was with you last night. I feel something right now, just looking at you, just thinking about you. It's like butterflies in my belly, and I feel sick and excited all at the same time." Rick had so much more to say, so much more to admit, but the look on Dixy's face stopped him.

Dixy's expression was cold and calculated, like he was thinking hard. His eyes flickered around Rick's face deeply and his whole body stopped moving. His lips cracked open and then closed wordlessly and a surprised, confused looked fogged over his vision. It was almost like he couldn't comprehend the thought. The dancer watched him precariously, blinking and looking Rick like he was a piece of glass tilting and threatening to tip over.

There were no words. Until there were.

"You're delusional." Dixy said finally, "And clingy."

Rick and Shane and even Morgan, off in the background, turned to watch him.

"Do you fall in love with anyone who will sleep with you or is it it just my luck?" Dixy bit off sourly, underneath him, Shane squirmed.

"Watch your mouth, hick!" Shane stood up for his best friend, "If I wasn't extremely turned on right now I would punch you in the face for talking to him like that!"

Morgan, somewhere in the back, gave a 'my friends are all idiots' sigh.

"Listen to me, Rick." Dixy ignored the others in the room and focused souly on Rick, his eyes narrowing almost sadly, "You are not in love with me. No one is in love with me. There is nothing to love here, Rick."

Shock shot through Rick and Dixy felt Shane stiffen somberly below him at his words. They both looked liked they wanted to protest, or at least say something, and if he had turned around he bet money that the third man held the same expression, but Dixy didn't let them talk.

"If you can't decide that your wife is the one for you, then you need someone to decide for you." the dancer slipped off of Shane's lap. "You should go before I get security. They are known for ruffing people up on the way out."

Dixy slipped out of the room and didn't look back.

XxxX

They got drunk that night. Or at least Rick did.

He didn't feel like celebrating or laughing or smiling or anything at all, really. All he wanted to do was sit at the bar and figure out how many more shots he had to gulp down before he got alcohol poisoning.

Maybe he was reacting so bitterly towards everything because he was embarrassed. Because he had gone and done something he really shouldn't have. Because he hadn't really, truly thought about his actions before he jumped to do them.

Maybe he was only shunning away from a marriage he was too nervous to participate in and some anxiety was kicking up in the pit of his stomach and uncertainty was playing a key role in all of the chaos.

Rick really didn't want to think about it.

"Man, I am so sorry." Shane was still and slouched over the table top at his side, as he had been since they left the strip club. "I shouldn't have acted the way I did in there."

Shane was brimming with guilt and moping around and pouting in the way only Shane could do and still look masculine. When he felt bad or when Rick was angry with him he would put on a pair of kicked puppy eyes and wait it out. Rick had already forgiven him, although he wasn't sure Shane felt at fault, anyway.

"You're fine, Shane." Rick slurred and hiccuped. He motioned for the casino's bartender to pour him another shot.

The bartender moved over with his bottle and cocked out his elbow to pour the drink but Morgan was there to stop him.

"I'm sure he's had enough." Morgan smiled tightly.

"Another." Rick croaked and moved his tiny glass closer to the edge of the inner bar. "Please."

Morgan eyed Rick with a reserved huff and nodded to the bartender who slipped Rick another. Rick tossed it back and let the burning liquid quench out his internal fires.

"What am I doing." the groom murmured under his breath. He choked a little when his alcohol stirred awkwardly in his belly and then settled. "I should get home to my fiance."

"You go home this drunk and she'll leave you." Shane laughed and then stopped and let his chuckle die on his lips unevenly.

"When she finds out what I've done she's going to leave me." Rick gasped and blinked. His eyes stung.

"She doesn't have to know, Rick." Shane told him as he rubbed a reassuring hand across his back.

Morgan made a unsure hiss to his side and shook his head, "You don't want to start a relationship with lies. It will come back and bite you in the ass. You should tell her the truth."

"What's that going to help?" Shane barked and rolled his eyes, "Secrets never hurt anybody."

"Sure they have. Look around." Morgan told him, motioning around the room. "This is a city of built on secrets."

Shane wrinkled his nose and turned back to his drink.

"You need to tell her, Rick." Morgan squeezed his grip on Rick's shoulder, "If she leaves you she wasn't the one."

"What if she was the one and I just really fucked everything up!" Rick nearly sobbed. He cleared his throat and tried to regain his composure.

Morgan smiled, his lips sad and sure. "Rick, if she's the one she will love you no matter what."

"And Dixy?" Rick looked up at Morgan hopefully, truly expecting this man to have all of the answers.

"Forget about him." Morgan clapped his shoulder one more time and let his hand drop back to his side. "Some battles aren't worth fighting."

"What do you mean?" Rick was listening, but his eyes spaced out a little. He ended up looking off at the far wall.

Morgan ran his fingers across his shaved scalp, "That man was clearly broken." There was a moment and then Morgan opened his mouth again to speak, sadly, respectively. "And, I don't think you can fix him."

Rick digested the words like a bad taste in his mouth. "Why not?"

"Because I don't think he wants to be fixed."

Morgan worked in funny, miraculous ways. He got all of that by only knowing Dixy for a few minutes. Rick had always astounded by the way Morgan could read people. Until right in that moment. Then, his words made everything feel futile.

"I want to see him again." Rick's mouth had said. He didn't remember thinking it before it actually came out.

"That's not a very good idea, Rick." Shane told him.

But the seed was planted and resolve buried itself deep inside Rick. "I just want to talk to him one more time."

"What the hell do you think you will gain from that!" Shane grumbled darkly, gripping at Rick's shirt and holding him down so he couldn't leave.

Rick tugged out of his seat fiercely and away from his friends, spinning around to face them, "Please, just, let me see him once more."

Shane and Morgan shared a look of disdain and pity and just a little bit of humor on Shane's end. Within that look they had an argument and finally came to a decision.

"You're not going alone, Rick."

"We'll come with you."

Rick let his eyes linger on his friends tiredly and then smiled drunkenly, "Thank you so much. You guys are my best friends."

"You are so fucking drunk." Shane sighed as he steadied his best friend with one hand and pushed through the crowd with the other.

XxxX

When they got back to the strip club it was already dark. Not the kind of dark that voices that the sun is hiding just beyond the horizon, or kind of dark that you can squint your eyes and see past, but the kind of dark that is just barely held at bay by streetlights and a big, round, bright full moon.

The only thing keeping Rick from being completely enveloped by the alcohol in his system was the brisk night air that chilled his booze fevered skin.

All of the lights in the club were turned off. Seeing as it was almost four in the morning Rick wasn't too surprised. They had been drinking for a while.

The doors were locked. That was a disappointment.

Rick yanked at the handle again and it shuttered and clacked about but it didn't budge more than an inch or two. His head drooped a bit in defeat and his neck couldn't give him the support he needed, so he let his forehead lay against the cold glass and let his eyes peer into the blacked out room.

"It's closed, man." Shane was at his side, his voice apologetic.

"We should head back to the hotel." Morgan murmured from behind him.

Rick focused all of his energy on remembering how to breathe, because he was drunk and he would never see Dixy again.

The thought was terrifying.

In. Out. In. Out.

"What if I never see him again?" Rick clawed slowly, desperately at the door.

"Then that's is probably for the best." Morgan was at Rick's side too and suddenly, Rick felt claustrophobic.

"I," Rick dropped his face into his hands and turned his body until his back was pancaked against the window, "I need some air."

Shane shuffled his feet, stepping back a few inches to give his friends some space and then back to his original position at Rick's side comfortingly.

"Just," Rick pushed off the door and away from the strip club, turning at a ninety degree angle just before he walked into the road and headed down the side walk, "give me a minute."

"He doesn't look so good." Shane whispered to Morgan as he watched his best friend sulk down into the alley next to the club. "Maybe we should stay one more night. We could go find Dixy tomorrow night and let Rick say his final words?"

"We're leaving tomorrow morning." Morgan shook his head, "And I don't think seeing Dixy is a good idea. Rick is already broken up about it, we don't need to make it worse."

"Look at him!" Shane growled as he followed after Rick and watched him stumble around a dumpster. "He's drunk off his ass over this guy!"

"That's not a healthy reaction, Shane."

"But, what if this guy really is something special?" Shane said uncertainly, "What if this Dixy is the one?"

"I thought Lori was the one."

"Have you seen those two together? They're like a couple of mismatched ducks." Shane rolled his eyes, "They can't even hug each other with out looking... odd."

Morgan gave him a tight look, "If they are so wrong for each other than why didn't you tell Rick before he proposed?"

"I dunno." Shane admitted quietly, "It just seemed wrong."

"Why?"

"It's," Shane ran a hand over his face, exhaustion playing a key role in the wrinkles underneath his eyes, "a long story."

Morgan's curiosity seemed to grown, but out of the respect he had for his friend, he didn't push him further. Instead, he turned to watch Rick disappear behind the back of the strip joint.

Shane and Morgan picked up their pace and followed after him.

XxxX

When Rick turned the corner he heard a deep, dark voice and instinctively ducked down. His drunk mind played too many cop show reruns in his head.

He hid himself behind a big pile of garbage and tried to shuffle into a better view.

It wasn't the first voice that caught his attention, though the man speaking was obviously the threat, but it was the second voice that really shot a bolt of surprise through him.

Dixy's voice sounded strained and helpless and was masked badly by anger.

The two were arguing about something.

"C'mon, Darlynna." the big, husky voice said and Rick was able to squabble over to get a look at the man. It was the strip joints bartender. He was as tall and as intimidating and as buff as he was earlier that evening. "Give yer ol' brotha' a break, will ya? I'm too tired to go through this again ta'night."

The bartender's accent was thick and teasing, but an underlying rage was dancing so close to the surface that Rick tensed.

Dixy snarled, "Fuck you, Merle, I told ya I don't got it."

"Don't lie to me, girly, I saw ya take them three boys into the back room and if ya fucked them you best have gotten somethin' off of them." Merle, the classy man that he seemed to be, spat to the side and flashed his little brother his tobacco stained teeth.

"I didn't fuck 'um!" Dixy retorted, "I wouldn't fuck someone fer money! What do A' look like? A hooker?"

"Tha's exactly what ya look like." Merle laughed. His chuckles came out unnaturally loud and malicious. Like a barking dog. "Now," all of the cheer in the taller man evaporated instantaneously, "Do ya mean to tell me tha' you fucked around all day and didn't make more than a grand?"

"You had me runnin' errands up town all night!" Dixy defended, somehow standing tall and shrinking in on himself at the same time.

"Tha's no excuse!" Merle bellowed, moving as if to strike out violently. Dixy flinched harshly but didn't step away. Rick couldn't tell if he was standing his ground or holding the line like a soldier.

And then, Merle was laughing again. Giggling like a child who had spooked his little sibling. "You shoulda see yer face!" Merle called and chortled like a gaggle of geese.

"You're high, Merle." Dixy told his other brotherly gravely.

"Wha do ya say tha', Darlynna?" Merle hiccuped with another snicker.

Dixy eyes narrowed into furious slits and his tone remained cold, "You don't act like this when you're sober."

Merle struck out without warning. The back of his hand whipped up and crashed into his little brother's cheek hollowly. Dixy let his head turn on the impact, but he returned to his original stance immediately.

"You need help, Merle." Dixy said sedately .

Merle clenched his fist this time and punched out harder. His breathing went ragged, like he was withholding a terrible animosity. "What A' need is ma money!"

"Why? So you can buy more drugs and blow our rent money?" Dixy hissed, "I can't live like this any longer. I need ta do something with ma'self before I..."

There was a long moment of silence as if Dixy couldn't quite get out what he wanted to say, but Merle would have none of it. "Before what!" Merle roared.

"Before I end up like you." Dixy voice was calculated and cold and cut off as Merle rammed another clenched fist into his brother's gut. The dancer kept his balance, but the act snapped Rick out of his shock.

He moved instinctively, sleekly, gracefully. Or, at least he would have if he was at least a little bit more sober.

Rick staggered to his feet and tripped over a garbage back strewn under his feet. He was almost certain it hadn't been there before.

It caught Merle's attention, though, and he released Dixy and turned towards the noise. "Who tha fuck are you!"

"Hi." Rick blinked a bit, "I'm Rick Grimes. Nice to meet you."

Dixy's face twisted with pain and surprise when his eyes landed on Rick. Dixy felt himself careen back so he let himself lean against anything that would support his weight. In this case, a stack of wooden crates.

"Rick Grimes, eh?" Merle reach behind him in a dangerous fashion and Dixy went rigid and whispered something under his breath. "I guess I'm gonna have ta teach ya a lesson 'bout interrupting me when I'm talkin' to ma brotha'."

"You're hardly talking." Rick accused, "It looks more like you're taking advantage of him."

Rick heard the gun cock before he really recognized it for what it was. The smile that cracked wickedly over Merle's lips promised nothing good.

"Get outa here Rick!" Dixy begged, almost hysterically.

"Too late fer that now." And the barrel of the six chamber gun was steadied on Rick's torso. "Ain't it, Darlynna?"

Everything happened all at once after that.

The gun went off.

Rick's whole body recoiled away.

Shane and Morgan turned the corner just in time to witness everything.

Merle's grin died.

And Dixy lunged.

It took Rick almost half a minute to realize he hadn't been shot, but by the time it fully proccessed Dixy was on the ground and Shane and Morgan were on top of him.

"Dixy!" Rick heard someone scream. It took a while to comprehend that it was him.

Hands danced all over Rick's body, checking and confirming he was unharmed. He felt too numb to push them away. He felt too numb to tell them to stop. Tell them to get Merle. Tell them to save Dixy.

Shane was up, though and growling like an animal as he pounced on Merle and Morgan was next. Together, they brought their prey to the ground and sat bunched over him in wild, angry hisses. They told him to stay still and to shut up and Merle wouldn't respond. He was staring longingly at his baby brother as if he actually realized he had done something wrong.

"Call the cops!" Shane barked to Morgan, but the man already had his phone out.

The gun shot was still ringing loudly in Rick's ears as he scrambled over to Dixy on his hands and knees and let his dirty, shaking fingers grip at Dixy's still form frantically.

"Dixy," Rick whispered. His voice came out softer than he thought it would. Almost like he was scared he would wake the dancer from his sleep. Like he would disturb his dreams.

Rick could barely hear Morgan's conversation with the police over his erratic heartbeat. He couldn't hear much of anything.

"God, Dixy," Rick said, "I am so, so sorry."

Dixy's eyebrows crinkled and his nose wrinkled and his fingers twitched. And then his eyes opened. His bright, baby blue eyes.

Rick had never felt more relieved in his entire life.

He hugged the dancer without thinking. Pulling his lean frame tightly against his body and soaking up Dixy's warmth.

Dixy stiffened and took in deep, tired breaths. "Why do you look so relieved?" His words were muffled by Rick's jacket, but Rick was able to make it out clearly.

Everything finally clicked into Rick's mind when he saw the bullet lodged into the concrete at his feet. The bullet had missed everybody. Dixy had been thrown back by his enraged brother and his head had smacked the ground and left him stunned.

Dixy was not injured. He was safe.

"I have no idea." Rick let his lips brush against Dixy's hair as he breathed in the scent of the forest. "I'm just so happy."

Dixy quieted and thought for a minute and then simply answered, "Alright."

Rick took Dixy to his suite before the cops showed up. He knew the dancer was tired and worn out and he didn't think being questioned by the cops after such a long day would be in his good interests, so he he told Shane and Morgan to hold up the fort and led Dixy to his temporary hotel.

As they were leaving his friends shot him matching accepting looks. They understood, and for that, Rick was eternally thankful.

Rick wanted Dixy to change out of his ratty, wrinkled clothing when they got to the suite. They looked uncomfortable. He handed the dancer a pair of sweats and a loose, white shirt from his bag and sent him to the bathroom to get dressed.

Dixy eyed him suspiciously, but he could tell his body wouldn't listen to him much longer so he slipped into the other room and changed quickly. He found Rick sitting at the desk when he came out.

"You should get some sleep." Rick smiled at him softly. Reassuringly.

Dixy waited at the bathroom door like he had been expecting to be ordered to do something. Rick just kept his kind expression on his face.

"What do you want from me?" Dixy asked. His voice was reserved. His fingers fiddled with the hem of his shirt nervously. He looked much different in comfortable clothes than he did in his tight uniform. Almost homely.

"I don't want anything but for you to get some sleep." Rick told him, "You look like a zombie, walking around half asleep like that."

His words had really rang true. Dixy looked even more frail and lanky than Rick remembered him. Maybe it was the loose clothing, but he was starting to suspect the dancer was just a show of how much energy, exactly, the tough man had drained.

Dixy shuffled a bit, "Where do I sleep?"

Rick gave a short chuckle that lit up his eyes and tugged strongly at his lips, "On the bed."

"That's yer bed." Dixy told him smartly. Narrowing his eyes as if he were guessing Rick wasn't clever enough to piece that together.

"It's your bed tonight."

Dixy clearly hadn't like to be treated well, judging by the sour glare he had been sporting.

"It's not going to bite you." Rick told him. He tried to hide his amusement.

"It's not the bed I'm worried about." Dixy shot back and Rick laughed agilely again.

"I wont bite you either." Rick smirked faintly, "I promise."

Dixy moved on silent feet. Edging over to the bed briskly and keeping his eyes on Rick the whole time. The dancer really could have been a professional hunter with the coordination and the grace he could muster, even out of his brutally weak body.

The bed gave him away. It creaked lowly under his weight as he boarded it. The plush feather molded to his hands as he pressed them to its surface. He eventually, slowly, made his way to the end of the bed. He didn't bother getting under the covers and just flopped down, belly up, on the covers.

Dixy closed his eyes for just a second and then they calmly fluttered open again. "Why am I here?" Rick could tell Dixy's eye were itching to close, but the dancer focused hazily on the ceiling.

"I want to help." Rick answered.

"Why?"

"You wont like the answer."

"I wont like any answer."

Rick was pleased by the odd honesty and chuckled a bit, "Well, alright then. I want to help because I feel something with you. I feel something when I think about you. I don't know what it is, but I haven't felt it towards anyone before. Not even my fiance."

Dixy's head turned unhurriedly and his eyes focused on him, "You're right."

"About what?"

"I don't like that answer."

They stared at each other for a few seconds and then they both broke out in comfortable, weary snickers.

"Can I ask a question?"

"You just did."

"Can I ask another?"

Dixy raised a brow but didn't bother with any more teasing. "Go for it."

"Was that man." Rick swallowed, "Was that man really your brother?"

Dixy's eyes brushed over him and then paused when their gazes met. Rick could tell there was a whole long story and a million different answers and examples and excuses. "Yes."

"Why did he hit you?"

Dixy raised a shaky hand to his bruised cheek and let it tickle his injury, "Sometimes when he's angry he does things he doesn't mean. Especially when he's high."

"Was he high tonight?"

"Yes."

"You're not going to go back to him when he gets out of jail, are you?"

But Dixy was already asleep. Snoring silently and letting his body go limp as his mind shut down. All of his defenses fell and he looked strangely innocent. Strangely peaceful.

XxxX

Rick woke up when the door closed.

He looked around lazily at first, looking around from his chair. His neck and back had kinks from his awkward position and his head ached and his whole body throbbed with displeasure. He was getting old.

The bed was empty. Why couldn't he have just slept in his bed.

And then it hit him. The bed was empty.

Rick looked around the room frantically, jumping to his feet and throwing around bags and covers and chairs as he got a good look at his empty suite.

Dixy was gone.

He remembered the door closing and rushed out without thinking. Without his key. Without his pants.

He ran down the stairs in a pair of boxers and a shirt and triped over luggage in the hallway and ignored the clerk at the counter asking him questions. He ran out the door and he looked around.

There are people every where and yet he feels so oddly alone.

He feels empty. Unfulfilled. Left in the dark. Like he's lost something beautiful and irreplaceable.

And then he sees him.

Dixy was still wearing Rick's shirt but he has traded up his sweat pants for his work bottoms and he looked really good with his hair tussled from sleep and his shirt wrinkled a bit from how he slept.

The sun was rising in the distance and throwing golden streams of light across Dixy's face and across the background.

He was waiting at a bus stop. Rick felt his heart stop.

He walked across the street blind. Rick didn't really care that a couple of drivers had to step quick on their brakes and swerve a little to miss him.

Dixy saw him coming and watched him like a hawk. Like Rick was prey or an alien.

Rick met him face to face on the sidewalk and they just observed each other for a while, like foreign objects.

Rick spoke first. "You were just going to leave without saying goodbye?"

"That was tha plan." Dixy nodded.

"And you don't feel the least bit guilty about that?"

"Should I?"

Rick didn't know the answer, so he didn't respond. He asked another question instead. "Where are you going?"

"I haven't decided yet." Dixy was the only person Rick knew that could look so doubtful and so sure at the same time. Even his emotions couldn't coexist together properly.

"Why are you leaving."

Dixy was shorter than Rick, only by a little, but he still has to tilt his chin back to look in Rick's eyes when they were that close. "I learned somethin' last night. I'm not gonna just sit around and watch ma life fall apart. I've seen that happen to too many people and it's grown painful. I'm gonna make something of myself. Make my ma proud."

"Your mother?"

Dixy nodded.

"Why?"

"Because she got dragged into this life by ma father. She died without fulfilling any of her dreams because of us. I'm going to make it up to her." Dixy watched Rick silently for a minute.

It was then that Rick realized that Morgan had been right. Dixy was broken. He didn't want to be fixed. He wanted to fix himself. He wanted to glue together the cracked pieces of his life. He wanted to become his own man.

Every real man started off broken. It was only a matter of time before he picked himself up off the ground and became something stronger.

Rick blinked slowly, "You're strong, Dixy."

Dixy smirked, and then smiled. It was a bright sort of smile that could have powered a whole country.

And then the bus came, creaking on it's old, metal hinges and nearly collapsing in front of them. It's mouth opened wide, ready to swallow Dixy up and take him away forever.

"Dixy?" Rick took the dancer's hand before he could leave. "Will you marry me?"

It's the worst proposal that he's ever given, but he's only done it once before so he didn't have much practice.

Dixy doesn't pull away or flee. Instead he faces Rick a bit more directly and opens his mouth, "You're clingy." He said. This time it held no venom. This time it's compassion.

They kissed. Teeth clashing, lips raking, tongues dancing, desperate. It's long and needy and rough and absolutely perfect.

Rick was reluctant to pull away and he could tell Dixy was too.

"No," Dixy said and he turned and stepped on the bus. He faced Rick again before the doors closed and shot him a lopsided grin that made him look even more beautiful. "I won't marry you."

Rick stepped forward as if to kiss Dixy again, but Dixy motioned for him to stop.

"Go home to your wife, Rick." Dixy told him. He was tired and he was regretful, but he was certain, "Go live a happy life with her and your son. Name him Carl. Get a home together and watch him grow up. Forget about me."

The bus driver moved to close the door but Rick shot him a pleading look and he hesitated long enough for Rick to speak. "Please, Dixy?" Rick begged, "I don't think I want to live like that. Not without you."

"Maybe one day we can meet again and have another round of mind blowing sex." Dixy smirked, flashing his pearly whites.

Rick tried to laugh but it came out as more of a whimper and a sob.

"It's Daryl, by the way." Dixy said, "Daryl Dixon."

And the bus doors swung shut and it drove away, leaving a cloud of smoke and nothing more.

_end_

XxxX

**A/N-** And... cut!

What did you think? Tell me your feelings.

This story ends here, but it's up to you guys and your minds to decide what happens to Rick and Daryl. Do they ever meet again? Do they live life without eachother? Do they even survive the first month? I would like to know... How does this story end for you? Tell me in your reviews, please?

I'm working on other stories now, if you're interested. **Ghost Town**, **Dollface** and a few others, but they are all The Walking Dead Rick/Daryl fics. I'm also co-writing a Rick/Daryl with **writerchick0214** under the pen name **some bears** called **Off of Route 441**, another AU, but are you really surprised at this point?

Alright, you guys, I love you and thank you for reading. This has been the longest chapter I have ever written and it's all for you!

**writerchick0214**, what did you think? This is my end of the story swap and I hope it comes close to the amazing story you've written for me. I love it with all my heart and I hope you love this half as much :)  
You've been a great insperation! We should do another one of these sometime.

If you have the time, leave your comments, and your mini epilouge.. Thanks you so much for reading. You have all been too wonderful! See you around!


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